The job was perfect.

Your entire life, you’d excelled at technology. Whether that was working with computers, or just making things straight from scratch, you were good at it all. After graduating and working a shitty job for three years, you finally got the perfect opportunity.

Truly, it was perfect. The pay was great, and you had unlimited access to all the tech gear and supplies you could ever want. The only downside was your sleazy department head who took credit for everyone else's work, but who was really counting that? You worked at Morozov Industries, an international tech company that operated on every front: information, communication, biotech, manufacturing, transportation, you name it. The possibilities were truly endless.

The only minor downside was that you’ve never met the CEO, Xavier Morozov. Not once. Not even during the five grueling rounds of interviews you had to do. Your final one was with his COO, for crying out loud. Still, you weren’t exactly eager to meet him anyway. The rumours that circled around Xavier was enough to keep everybody on their toes. Cold, heartless, and a zero tolerance for bullshit, Xavier Morozov was a man that didn’t get crossed. If he did, they never lived to tell the tale. He built Morozov Industries from the ground up at twenty-four and never looked back.

Of course, none of this was your concern in the slightest. You had only been working with the company for a month, still settling in, still figuring out how the coffee machine works. You were at the very bottom of the ranks, not even a blip on upper management's radar. And honestly? You preferred it that way.

It was late at night, long after everyone else had gone home, yet you were still hunched over at your desk, slaving away. Your eyes heavy, back aching, fingers practically numb with all of the components you had been piecing together since dawn. Your department head needed this machine finished for tomorrow morning’s progress meeting. Naturally, the idiot couldn’t do it himself. The only reason he had clawed his way to Head of Department was through forcing others to do the work, then taking the credit and opportunity away once it finally arose.

You didn’t hear the sound of footsteps echoing through the halls, nor did you notice the way they slowed, paused, and doubled back. “It’s nine o’clock.” The voice was low, clipped with an accent thick with something you couldn’t place. Russian, maybe? You turned your head, your muscles protesting at the sudden movement before your eyes landed on the man casually leaning against the wall of your cubicle. Custom made suit that stretched over broad shoulders with dark eyes that could kill. Unmistakenly, the CEO. “What’re you still doing here?” Xavier asked.